Does He Have It Coming Too?
by Pellegrina
Summary: Tag to last night's episode ("There Will Be Blood"). Stream-of-consciousness from Jane's POV when walking away from the scene of Lorelei's murder. !SECOND CHAPTER WITH LISBON'S POV ADDED!
1. Chapter 1

**Last night's episode ("There Will Be Blood") was very emotional and intense. My unflappable optimism and steadfast confidence in Jane's fundamental goodness (and all things Jisbon) gives me the hope, that he's actually learnt something from this whole mess. Maybe I'm completely wrong, and maybe I'm totally misreading the events. Only time and the next episodes will show.**

**Anyway, here's my take on what Jane might've thought at the end of the episode, when we see him walking away from the scene of Lorelei's murder.**

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**This little tag is un-betaed and rather spur-of-the-moment, so please excuse my mistakes and the inconsistent nature of it. In all honesty, it's just a stream-of-consciousness sort of thing, but I thought, I'd share it anyway.**

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**I don't own 'The Mentalist', and only borrow the characters for a while. **

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**Does He Have It Coming Too?**

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For a while he had really thought that she understood.

How could he have been so wrong? He didn't normally make such cardinal mistakes reading people.

He'd thought, that if he stopped manipulating her, gave her the time to figure out the truth for herself, she would hold her end of the bargain. He'd really believed it. Believed that she acknowledged and understood his need for closure, for revenge. That they could work together in a way he couldn't expect Lisbon to work with him. Because even though the Red John case had turned personal for her as well a long time ago, she had yet to stare EVIL in the eye directly. Or rather, his Lisbon didn't have it in her to be touched by evil that way. She was too good a person.

Much better than he was, or Lorelei. They were both tainted, irrevocably tainted by evil. And he'd felt connected to her because of it. He'd thought, he'd truly gained a confidant. Someone to share his revenge with. But she'd just thrown it all in his face. Had only used him.

He'd even helped her find out the truth about her sister. Where her torture had failed, his interrogation techniques had given her the information she'd sought. And then she'd not only refused to divulge the promised name, no, she'd shot the only other lead he had. She'd wanted to have the revenge for herself without giving him the slightest chance to get his own closure.

How stupid he'd been, how utterly idiotic. And Lisbon had warned him. She'd tried to make him see that he was putting his trust on someone, who had allowed herself to be corrupted before. After all, Lorelei had let herself be turned into the tool of a serial killer in her grief over her sister's murder. How could he have ignored that fact so easily? How could he have been so blinded by his obsession that he misread Lorelei's intentions like that? How clueless was he really, whenever anything connected to Red John occurred?

Lisbon had told him so – many, many times. That he lost his cool, his wit, whenever his Nemesis came up. And intellectually he knew it as well. But somehow, rational thought processes just deserted him, where that bastard was concerned.

Even Lorelei herself had actually warned him during their meeting in that house in Orchid Lane. She'd told him that they traveled different paths. But he'd been too stupid, too blinded to accept that. He had firmly believed, they were on the same page, because he'd wanted so very much for it to be true. Wanted to believe that he'd finally after all those years, all the hardship and disappointments found the key that would open the door to Red John.

He had been truly appalled at her ruthlessness when torturing and killing that woman. He'd even reproached her for it. But she'd justified her actions, had said, that Julia got only what she deserved. And it had shocked him.

Yes, Lorelei's nonchalance and coldness had shocked him, because in his mind the only person deserving of such treatment was Red John, who'd to him lost all traces of humanity and was nothing but a monster – his excuse for wanting him dead.

But Lorelei had been willing to treat all her leads to the truth like they were nothing but worthless obstacles. That should have really clued him in. She'd even told him that she knew, her path was not his. But he hadn't been ready to listen. He'd been arrogant enough to think that the connection he felt with her was mutual. He'd trusted her to feel the same way he did.

But in reality, they weren't all that similar. They might have been years ago, but certainly not anymore. She had been willing to turn into a monster herself. Fight fire with fire. Become the very thing she was combating.

He'd tried to warn her. Tried to tell her that she didn't stand a chance. Because when it came to being ruthless and cruel, callous and deadhearted, Red John was lightyears ahead of her. But she'd been just as arrogant and self-righteous as he usually was when it came to that bastard.

In a way, she'd managed to mirror his own behavior towards Lisbon. He'd had two weeks to realize this. Two weeks to come to terms with the fact that Lorelei had shown him very clearly what he would've turned into, if fate hadn't put Lisbon (and the team) in his path. He'd understood that there was a great possibility that he would've become a monster as well. Or maybe, if he was really honest, maybe he already was one. Sometimes he allowed himself a spark of hope that he wasn't. Not entirely at least, because Lisbon hadn't given up on him – yet.

And maybe there was hope for him, because he'd been able to foolishly believe he'd found a kindred spirit in his quest. It might sound stupid, but he held the hope that his ability to open his heart to another person in a similar situation showed that he wasn't all cold and beyond redemption. He'd felt such a sense of tenderness for Lorelei – another wounded soul so much like himself.

It gave him a sliver of hope. But on the other hand, Lisbon had been right after all. His feelings had compromised him and he'd been too stupid, too arrogant, too self-righteous, too caught up in his quest for vengeance to see it.

He'd been so incredibly stubborn and stupid. He hadn't trusted his friend of nine years to read him correctly, to act in his best interest. No, he'd hurt her instead. Horribly. He'd seen it so clearly. More clearly than ever before. The hurt he'd caused had been painted all over Lisbon's face, in her eyes – as well as something else he'd rather not acknowledge, at least not yet.

Lisbon had realized the depths of his entanglement with Lorelei before even he himself had become aware of it. Though he wasn't sure, that Lisbon really understood the nature of his feelings for Lorelei. No, actually he was sure, she didn't understand. That's why his admission had hurt her so much. But he wasn't ready, wasn't able to explain it all to her. Not yet. Because explaining the nature of his feelings for Lorelei would mean to examine and possibly reveal his true feelings for Lisbon as well. And he couldn't go there. That was too dangerous a place to go - yet.

But hurting her had been awful. He hated himself for it. That expression on her face had been haunting him ever since their confrontation. God, how he hated himself for hurting her. He'd never meant to do that. Never. She was the last person he'd ever meant to hurt. And still, she was the one he had been hurting again and again for years. And he really despised himself for it. Considering the pain he caused the woman he lo… liked most in the world, he had to face the possibility that he had already turned into a monster after all. Or maybe the fact that it affected him like that meant he hadn't? He didn't know anymore.

If he'd understood one thing during the last two weeks it was, that he was obviously completely unable to read anything clearly when it came to either Red John, Lorelei, or himself. He was in every sense of the word too close to it all. Another truth Lisbon had been trying to make him realize for years. How could he possibly hope to untangle a web, when he was probably part of or even the cause of just about every knot in it?

Maybe, just maybe he was ready now. Ready to finally let Lisbon help him. Really help him. He wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure she would be willing to do so anymore. Maybe he'd caused too much harm, hurt, and pain already? Maybe he'd irrevocably destroyed their relationship this time? Maybe he'd gone too far? Especially since he hadn't managed to explain himself to her during the last two weeks. Hadn't allowed her to be part of his brooding. Hadn't told her about the true nature of the feelings he'd had for Lorelei, or the fact that they'd been reduced to ashes the second she'd shot Lennon while kissing him goodbye.

He hoped against hope that he could salvage his relationship with Lisbon. He couldn't afford to lose her. She was all that stood between him staying human and him turning into a monster like Lorelei.

Maybe he had managed to convey all that to Lisbon a few minutes ago, when he'd uttered those words about Lorelei to her at the latest Red John crime scene: she had it coming.

Or maybe all he had accomplished was to show his angel of salvation once more, just how cold and heartless he was?

And maybe all Lisbon thought of him now was that he had it coming too…?

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**Reviews are very welcome. There's so much to be discussed after this episode...**


	2. Chapter 2

**I've been asked to turn this into a multi-chapter fic. While I don't see that happening, I found it convincing enough to add one more chapter containing Lisbon's point of view.**

**So this is essentially the same moment in time just seen from Lisbon's perspective. **

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**Fair warning: This is just as spur-of-the-moment as the first part and just as un-betaed and probably inconsistent.**

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**Thanks for the encouragement and the positive feedback I got for the first chapter. Feel free to express your honest opinions about this companion piece as well.**

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She watched him walking, no staggering away in the vague direction of the SUV, which had brought them both to this latest Red John murder scene. Her eyes followed his unsteady retreat while her thoughts where in a state of utter confusion. She decided to give him – and herself - a few minutes before joining him.

'She had it coming.' The sentence had started repeating itself in her mind in a loop from the moment he'd spoken it.

If she had only focused on the words themselves she would have been appalled by his callousness. What a heartless thing to say after finding a person murdered, one you had admitted to having feelings for to boot.

But she didn't just hear the words. She had seen his face while speaking. His beloved face, the one she'd learnt to read at least relatively well after all those years of working together. If nothing else, she was sure that she was the person coming closest to figuring him out. During moments of optimism – unfortunately they were occurring less and less often - she imagined that it wasn't just due to the fact that she'd known him for so long, but because he actually was more open and honest when around her.

Whatever the case this time, she'd been able to discern several emotions from his face when he'd left Lorelei's body behind and had turned around to her. There'd been pain edged into his features. Resignation. Guilt. Sadness. Defeat. Anger. What she didn't see – though she had expected it, she truly had – were the signs of grief she associated with the loss of a loved one.

'She had it coming.' Accompanied by an expression of desperation. And disclosed in a broken voice. Why? And why that expression? What did he really mean to convey with those words? Why did he speak them to her of all people?

Patrick Jane didn't do things without purpose. Even in a state of turmoil, he wouldn't have uttered those words to her if he hadn't meant for her to hear them. If he hadn't meant for her to understand something about this whole mess. If they hadn't been meant for HER. Period. But she wasn't at all sure, what his message to her was supposed to be.

During the last two weeks on the few occasions she'd actually seen him, he'd been subdue. They'd barely spoken. He'd been inquiring about Lennon's state several times and asked her – meekly – to try and get the case back from Homeland Security. Other than that, he'd been hiding in his man-cave most of the time, probably once again solely engrossed in his pet-project.

She was almost convinced that he'd actually given up sleeping outside of the CBI building (if not at all) and that he didn't even bother with renting a motel room anymore. And to be honest, she hadn't made an effort to confront him with it. Had actually stopped worrying about it. Well, not stopped exactly, but she'd turned to ignoring her concerns, had shoved them to the back of her mind, because these problems seemed almost insignificant compared with Jane's overall state at the moment.

Ever since he'd revealed to her his crazy project of narrowing down the list of people he'd shaken hands with, he'd actually seemed to improve for a while. He'd been helpful, really helpful around the office. He'd shown - even openly on occasion - that he cared for his teammates (and for her), hadn't caused too much havoc during their investigations and had been nice (in a Jane-ish sort of way) and playful. Just thinking of their poker game made her smile for a second.

Even the confirmation of Red John's connection to Visualize - or the barn with the Smiley-face, which had revealed it - hadn't thrown him into his usual frenzy.

Though his expression had been a little lunatic, when he'd presented her with his chart, it hadn't even come close to that eerie look in his eyes when he'd shared Lorelei's slip-up with her right after his so-called kidnapping. All in all, she'd been hopeful that in the wake of his progress would also follow some sense of calm and satisfaction. For once, there'd been something tangible for him to deal with when it came to the serial killer.

To be honest, she had been impressed by his chart, even though it looked a lot like the work of an obsessed crackpot, which he was, of course. But despite the years she'd been working with him, it wasn't until that very moment up in the attic, that she had realized the magnitude of his mind's powers and the accuracy of his memory. Add to it the fact that he'd called her partner in that husky tone of voice and had actually shared the most prominent names on his suspect list with her, and she'd felt included and accepted by him for once.

And then that hussy had resurfaced.

'She had it coming.' What the hell was that supposed to tell her? Why couldn't that idiot express himself clearly for once? Why couldn't he just tell her in plain words, what was going on in that crazy, magnificent mind of his?

Had he been in shock? Had the grief not set in, because he'd been too out of it to realize what had happened?

Somehow she doubted that. It wasn't like him. No. He'd already expected this outcome. Had read it on her face the moment he'd looked at her when she'd come to fetch him from his hide-out half an hour ago. And she'd seen the resignation in his eyes already at that point. Even his words a few minutes ago confirmed that he hadn't been surprised by the events. Jane had known with absolute certainty and for the last two weeks, that Lorelei would fail in her quest for vengeance and would instead become Red John's next victim. At least that part about the puzzling sentence she understood without a problem.

But his expression and the tone of voice with which he'd spoken those words, they didn't make sense to her. Not when they were aimed at her and uttered about a woman he had feelings for. It just didn't add up and it drove her crazy. What had he been meaning to tell her?

She didn't know, what exactly had happened between him and Lorelei in the house in Orchid Lane or at Lennon's. She didn't dare to ask him. She was too afraid of his answers. After their own confrontation in Orchid Lane, where he'd admitted to having feelings for another woman she was wary of him, or rather of the truth. She knew, she'd revealed too much about herself to him that night. Though she probably hadn't given away anything he hadn't already known, damn mentalist that he was.

In a way, the whole situation had been her own fault. She'd cornered him, had forced him to acknowledge verbally, what she'd known all along: Lorelei hadn't just been a pawn to him. And Bertram's inquiries the next morning hadn't helped either. Though he'd only repeated the questions she'd been asking herself for weeks. The questions about what had really taken place between those two during that fake kidnapping.

What was the true nature of Jane's feelings for Lorelei Martins? And did she really want to know the answer to that question? Should she ask herself that question at all?

After that latest sentence of his she felt that maybe she dared to do so.

'She had it coming.' Not even a man like Jane would use a sentence like that when speaking about a loved one who'd been murdered – and by Red John.

Or had it been his resentment talking? His anger at Lorelei for breaking their deal and shooting Lennon? Was he really capable of being so callous?

If she'd only focused on the words, she might've been inclined to believe that. But she had seen his face and she'd noticed his broken voice. And she'd actually heard him saying sorry to Lorelei's body. Furthermore, she'd seen him stagger away as if in a haze. This just didn't add up with the words' otherwise heartless nature. And he'd spoken them to HER. He hadn't said them to the dead body in front of him, but to HER, his partner.

Maybe, just maybe she'd misunderstood the nature of his feelings for Lorelei. She'd been more than a stepping stone, but had she really been a love interest? She was afraid to ask, afraid of the answer. But on the other hand, what if she had been wrong assuming that Jane had been in love with Lorelei? What if all he felt for her was sympathy? A connection forged by shared grief?

He had been very vague about it, when he'd finally admitted to having feelings for her at all. Before, he'd always - if not entirely convincingly – claimed that he wasn't involved with Lorelei in the least. Maybe she'd been too hurt and shocked by his admission to think clearly and had just automatically assumed to know what he meant, because it was what she'd dreaded all along and tried to push aside. Hearing him saying out loud what she had already known (or assumed to know) had hurt more than she was ready to acknowledge even to herself. Though she was aware of the fact that her true feelings had been written clearly all over her face that night. Her own mask, her carefully erected walls had abandoned her for once and he'd seen it. She was certain that he'd seen it. He'd been saved from reacting by Bertram's call, but she knew that he knew. And, to quote him, he knew that she knew that he knew.

'She had it coming.' He always claimed that he would do anything to get Red John. Had reiterated this notion during their talk in Orchid Lane. She knew that it wasn't true. She wouldn't be his partner otherwise. There were lines he wouldn't cross. She trusted him that much. His moral code differed from hers, but there was a certain amount of integrity left in him.

Even when he'd tried to justify Lorelei's actions, the torture and murder of Julia Howard, he'd had to force himself to only focus on his quest. She knew him well enough to have noticed that he'd been truly appalled. And though he'd been willing to accept Lorelei's methods to a certain degree because they served his own agenda, she knew that Jane himself couldn't have done what that woman had done in her search for the truth.

Maybe that's what he'd meant with those words? That she deserved what she got, because she'd crossed the line and had become what she fought? Because even though Jane had been compromising his own integrity for years – more prominently so ever since Timothy Carter – she could still see the fundamental goodness in him. It was a close thing, she knew that, but he hadn't turned into the beast he fought. And if she had any say in it at all, she would prevent it from ever happening.

Had he been meaning to tell her that he knew this? Had he been meaning to convey that he didn't want to end up like Lorelei? That he knew that she, his partner, was the person who'd save him from such a fate? Did it mean that he would finally start to trust her? Really trust her and accept that she had his best interests at heart? That she was willing to go very, very far with him, but that there were actual limits? Limits maybe not even too unlike his own?

He'd accepted her ultimatum. He'd even followed her orders and stayed behind when she'd asked him to. And only when he'd realized who Lorelei was after, had he left CBI HQ. And that had been enough for her not to doubt his words even for a second, when he'd shared his newfound information with her. Somehow she'd known that she could trust him on this one. Trusted him not to mislead her intentionally to assist Lorelei. Trusted his obvious worry about Rigsby's state of health. She had just KNOWN, that he didn't play her at that point. That was the reason why she'd not hesitated to call her other agents away from their posts to assist at Lennon's home.

And he hadn't disappointed her. She knew from Rigsby's recount that the very first thing Jane had done was to actually check up on his teammate. Considering that he'd believed himself to be on the verge of finally getting Red John's name this was truly remarkable.

Maybe she should sit him down and talk with him. Really talk. There were so many unresolved matters between them. But she'd revealed too much to him already and was very afraid to give away even more. She couldn't afford that. She had to protect herself. And chances were big that he wouldn't divulge anything anyway.

They were both not especially forthcoming. And though they'd had their moments of relative openness during the years, they'd never been particularly known for their skills communicating with each other when it came to the deeply emotional stuff. Most of the time, they understood each other very well without words being necessary. It was easier somehow. Not actually talking meant that certain matters between them could stay in the dark, though they both knew that they existed.

Putting actual words to something often only complicated matters. Like with those fateful words he'd uttered in a moment of weakness in her office a few months ago, right before mock-shooting her. She'd only made a very half-hearted attempt to make him talk about it. And they'd both been all too happy to let it slip, though they both knew that the other knew that he'd said IT and remembered doing so. As if he'd ever forget something like that. But the subject had been too loaded to be brought into the open.

Somehow, they both accepted tacitly what they could openly reveal to each other and what was best kept under a cloak of silence. It had always been that way between them.

'She had it coming.' Considering past experiences that sentence from a few minutes ago was very likely the only thing she'd get from him about this whole matter. And that gave it all the more significance.

Still deep in thought she started to walk slowly in the direction of the car.

'She had it coming.' Maybe he'd meant it this way: he didn't want her to ever have to stand beside his dead body saying those same words about him. He wanted to travel a different path – together with her, his real partner.'

She saw him leaning against the SUV, his face an unreadable mask again.

Maybe it was only wishful thinking on her part and considering her own entanglement with him, she was probably deluding herself once more, but she decided that that's the way she wanted to interpret his words. That seemingly callous sentence, spoken to her, in a broken voice, with an expression of desperation, by the man she had deep feelings for, while he was leaving a crime scene that had obviously been aimed at him personally, considering the carousel horses and the stage-like nature of it all.

When he saw her approaching the car, he cast her one of his small smiles: no smirk, no smugness, no false cheer, just a very careful, guarded but genuine little smile playing on his lips. It didn't really reach his eyes, but it was enough for her. Just enough to make her return the gesture with a smile of her own.

And if he did indeed disappoint her again in the future, which wasn't too unlikely - well, at least she couldn't in all honesty say that she hadn't seen it coming…


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